


The Castle

by Avrina



Category: How Best to Use A Sword, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Death, Friendship, Hurt, Knifeplay, Melancholy, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Past Violence, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suffering, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22400392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avrina/pseuds/Avrina
Summary: Employees and servants can be annoying, running an economic empire costs energy, nerves and time. So why not combine the pleasant with the useful? Solomon and Sam have almost reached perfection and the castle lives in fear of the next punishment, careful not to make any mistakes...
Comments: 49
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You Don't Have to Be Sadistic to Be the Villain, but it Helps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5724478) by [AntagonizedPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntagonizedPenguin/pseuds/AntagonizedPenguin). 



> Penguin, you're giving me nightmares! Here are some of them, hidden in those scenes... ;)
> 
> WARNING: Penguin-original characters appear and some of them will suffer... some of them quite a lot.

She had no idea what warlord Stefan had done. But there he knelt - hands tied behind his back and knotted to his ankles - on the platform in the pond, surrounded by a ring of fireworks and explosive stuff. New Year's Eve rockets, firecrackers, explosives, and head-sized bombs with finger-length spikes that looked like the master-at-arms had played too much World of Warcraft.  
She had always wondered how it happened that someone was said to look green on the face, but Stefan's skin had a greenish tint. He didn't move, just stared at the platform and barely blinked. The audience was also silent.  
Solomon had ordered all the employees of the castle out here to look at their fallen hero, and so they stood around the pond, uneasily silent. Meanwhile, Solomon and Sam were sitting in a pavilion a good distance away, having a business meeting; as soon as it was over, Stefan would die.

She wasn't sure why she was standing here on the platform herself, untied. Did she have any function? Was she considered a co-conspirator?  
Quite possible.  
Since she had been a toy for Sam, her memories were sometimes sketchy and that alone made him even more interested in her.  
Uncomfortable, she let her eyes wander over the crowd and discovered Martin. Hesitantly he raised his hand and gestured. Only after a moment did she realize that she should disappear from there. She licked her dry lips. When convicts tried to escape, they were shot. But no one even reacted to Martin's attempt to communicate - which was not unusual among the servants, considering the credo _"see nothing, hear nothing, say nothing"_ , but the security forces...  
She carefully climbed over the ring of explosive stuff; behind it the platform ended and offered just enough space for her little feet. Martin waved again. He stood behind the waist-high metal fence that separated the pond. Directly in front of him was a small gate, there was a gap in the hedge and at the edge of the pond was a metal plate that could be extended to form a footbridge. The pond was not big, but without a run-up she couldn't jump far enough, so she gritted her teeth and let herself slide into the cold water.  
No one reacted.  
With a few swims she reached the edge of the pond and climbed over the gate to Martin. He looked at her strangely, somehow sad and insistent.  
"Ariel, you have to get out of here," he said softly. The elderly woman in the kitchen staff's clothes, standing next to him, gave him a wry look.  
"I know," Ariel said just as quietly. "I cannot."  
"You must go!"  
She looked over her shoulder, through the park towards the pavilion. It seemed as if the meeting would end. Martin sighed barely audibly.  
"Today's code for the gates is 20-21-22," he whispered to her and she nodded. He stepped aside and she hurried away, past the other servants, along the narrow path that led past a grove of trees and ended at a gate at the edge of the park. Behind it was the forest.  
No one had paid any attention to her, which was both normal and disturbing. She raised her hand to the electronic number lock and paused, turning around once more. In the distance she saw Solomon take off his red tie - the signal.  
Around the pond, between the metal fence and the hedge, a transparent protective wall went up.  
She felt a slight buzzing in the ground and closed her eyes.  
  
**Booooomm!**


	2. Chapter 2

She slipped past the room of the dungeon guards, the sounds of a television and grunting laughter came through the half-open door. Solomon had had the castle thoroughly modernized, but there wasn't much of that down here. Stone walls, stone floors, bare steel bars as cell doors.   
In the third cell, a light bulb gave off a yellowish glow. The three men sitting in the cell on the cots on the left and right of the wall looked up in surprise. The guy on the right wall was a dark guy, good-looking with a three-day beard, but his warm brown eyes stared sinisterly at Ariel. On the left sat a tall, thin guy who looked like the living model for Slenderman- too tall, too thin, too long limbs. Half-hidden from him sat a small, stocky man with a square face, who stood up with chains clanging at the sight of Ariel.   
"Sit still, Cal," the dark guy muttered admonishingly, but Cal came closer. The reflection of the yellowish light in the almost blind mirror created a halo for him.   
"You're not a guard. What are you doing here?" he wanted to know. Ariel shrugged.   
"I heard they were locking up intruders. Usually they don't live long enough to get down here."   
"Is that supposed to give us hope?" Slenderman asked skeptically. Once again, she shrugged.   
"I'm just curious." Out of politeness, she added: "Sorry I can't help you." The three of them looked like professionals, somehow hard-bitten, in black functional clothes and with distinct muscles underneath. Now it was Cal who shrugged.   
"Would've been too good to be true..."   
"Cal..."   
"What were you doing here?"   
"We're relic hunters and we have a mission," Cal explained with a hint of a smile.   
"Cal."   
"Relics?" She raised an eyebrow. "Solomon has more relics in his study alone than the three of you yourselves could carry off."   
"This is what he looks like..." Slenderman murmured.   
"Shut up," asked the dark guy.   
"What do you know about the relics? Do you know if there's a crown?" Cal continued, unimpressed.   
"Cal, please."   
"Yes." Ariel replied casually. The three of them would die; if Solomon was really pissed, it was right tonight. If he was just annoyed, Sam would be allowed to play with them. So she could give them some answers of which they had no use anyway. "Yeah, he has a crown lying around, too. More of a tiara, actually."   
"White? As of bone?"   
She nodded. "It's made from a rare species of coral and cursed, I think. He keeps it in a box of seawater."   
"I knew it, we're in the right place!" Cal threw a triumphant glance to the left and right.   
"But sitting in the dungeon doesn't seem right at all," muttered the dark guy, then asked her: "Why are you really here? I doubt if anyone besides guards is allowed to walk around here."   
She moved closer to the bars, further into the cone of light. The dark guy and Cal each had their mouths wide open.   
"What...?"   
She raised a hand and touched the green-brown mark on the right side of her neck. "I was born and raised here. I am a first-class servant. But I'm really only here out of curiosity." The employees without a mark did not question where those with a mark went. A first class servant was a serf and the freedoms compared to the other employees were ridiculous. Those who came here to work didn't want to stay and raise a family, but usually had no other choice.   
"Curiosity..." Cal murmured, now also sounding skeptical.   
"And to warn you."   
This alerted all three.   
"If you end up with Sam, Solomon's son, that's it. You will spend the rest of your short lives screaming and begging. But Solomon, every now and then, shows a little... kindness."   
For a few heartbeats you could only hear the distant sounds from the guard room.   
"Kindness? Compared to torture, that can mean almost everything," Slenderman finally murmured uneasily. She shrugged.   
"Solomon knows all the varieties of punishment, and if he can't think of anything directly, Sam knows. If he shows kindness, he lets you choose your death."   
"How kind." Cal now remarked dryly.   
"Ask to be allowed to kill each other."   
All three froze. Ariel was right, they were not only a team, they were friends.   
"At least it'll be quick and clean." All she could do was this. 

~

Ariel stood leaning against a window and looked down on the courtyard. All windows were occupied by employees who had to watch the spectacle. She had been right, Solomon was indeed pissed, but at the same time disinterested enough to grant them this last wish. Now all three of them stood there unbound and waiting.   
Solomon loved to keep the victims waiting. He himself, Sam, and three bodyguards waited in a corner behind bulletproof glass. Solomon was patient, and so everyone else, by necessity, was patient too.

The shadows crept across the yard and then a hatch opened in the yard floor. From inside, you couldn't hear the fine whirring of the hydraulics as a small table was raised, on top of which was a pistol.   
Ariel hoped very much that the three were not stupid. No more stupid than trying to break into Solomon's castle, anyway.   
It was Cal who made two steps forward, picked up the pistol and weighed it in his hand. He was probably the leader. Or at least he'd had this very foolish idea.   
Tears glistened on his cheek in the fading sunlight.


	3. Chapter 3

She hastily retreated into the stairwell when at the other end of the corridor three figures turned the corner.   
Solomon. Sam. Henry.   
When she was a teenage girl, she had adored Solomon. Tall and handsome, slender hips, broad shoulders, finely cut facial features. Luckily she didn't get close enough to him to know if his light blonde hair had grayed by now, but that didn't matter with his charismatic appearance.   
Sam next to him was not quite as tall and somehow more delicate. His eyes shone bright blue and he liked to claim that he had gained a new eye color during the many operations that were supposed to give him something like eyesight. It was not true. Ariel remembered it only vaguely, but at Sam's birth Solomon had had a fit of raving madness, while the rest whispered that the blind eyes had at least a beautiful color.   
Henry next to him looked almost stocky, although he was not at all, when viewed alone. The dark hair casually fell into his dark eyes, and like for Solomon, his shirt sleeves were rolled up a little, drawing attention to the tanned forearms and strong hands. Henry was not the nicest steward one could wish for, but he was worlds better than his predecessor. One could talk to him. Sam and Solomon trusted him. And most importantly, he had a lot of influence with Sam.

"... if you hadn't punished Daniel and Jarla so much, you wouldn't have to complain about your food now," Henry said as they approached.   
"We have more than two chefs," Sam snapped.   
"But apparently only those two are capable of satisfying your exquisite taste," Solomon mocked softly.   
"Apparently not. Otherwise I wouldn't have had to punish them," Sam hissed.   
"You see, there's the problem," Solomon calmly replied.   
"The problem is that I am being served by amateurs."   
"They're still the best amateurs you have," Henry said soberly. "When they have recovered, you should try to punish them less. Then they can learn better from their mistakes."   
"And meanwhile, you don't have to put up with the oh-so-low food from the other chefs," Solomon added.   
Sam growled an answer that Ariel didn't understand.

~

In the kitchen, which was reserved for the preparation of the master dishes, it was surprisingly quiet. At one work table, the tall Martin was cutting herbs for a marinade, at another, Flavia- her bleached hair carefully pinned up- hurriedly stirred in an orange cream.   
"Franziska, what about the sponge cake bases for the cake tomorrow?" she wanted to know.   
"Are in the oven. I'll make some more later, in reserve."   
"Very good." Flavia took a spoon and tried the cream before turning away and looking for something on a shelf. Ariel stepped beside her and tried the cream as well. Without a word she took a tin of powdered cinnamon from the shelf.   
"Cinnamon, right," Flavia muttered. She seemed composed but worried. Jarla was usually the boss of the sweet domain.   
"Parsley. And then a touch of basil and a good pinch of thyme."   
Ariel turned around at Daniel's tired voice. He was even paler and thinner than usual and sat like a pile of misery on a chair in the corner. Lisa, a kind of apprentice, took notes and kept an eye on a sauce pot at the same time. She stirred in it, tasted it and then handed Daniel a spoon to try.   
"Hmm. Yes. A little more thyme. And remember, sprinkle a little more parsley over Henry's plate before serving."   
Lisa scribbled in her notebook. Ariel stepped next to Daniel and put a hand on his shoulder, he sighed.   
And then they all flinched as nose-Martin burst in.   
"Sam wants the tarts as soon as possible!"   
Flavia made a miserable sound. "They'll be at least twenty minutes more!"   
Martin shrugged helplessly while tall-Martin, who had finished with the herbs in the meantime, said:   
"Then see that the things are put into the oven."   
Flavia gasped slightly in panic and began to fill the cream into the moulds lined with dough. Meanwhile Ariel caught the look of nose-Martin. As so often he seemed to say _"you shouldn't be here"_. She nodded to him and was about to leave the kitchen when her eyes fell on the cinnamon tin. Flavia had forgotten it.   
Sam wouldn't be very amused.


	4. Chapter 4

She had only wanted to check on the two captives who had been put in the dungeon until the interrogation, but now she was stuck down here. The door of the large interrogation room was wide open and she had to get past it.   
Impossible.   
Solomon always sat in a position where he could see the door without being pushed into a corner. Corners were reserved for those who had to wait for their interrogation. And in a corner sat one of the two women, invisible to Ariel, but probably tied to a chair. The whisper said that the two had tried to talk their way into the castle.   
The woman Ariel could see was - if you leave aside the situation-related emotions - perhaps in her mid-thirties. With the laboriously suppressed fear on her face, when Solomon tied her hand in the torture device, she looked older.   
However, Solomon was quite nice in his Solomon way. He took the left hand, turned the palm upwards and bent all but the little finger and blocked all others before he pushed the hand into position in the device and tied it tight. Sam preferred to use more important fingers, thumb or forefinger, preferably straight from the right hand.   
Solomon sat down. His voice smiled. "Well, Miss Beatrice, I'm quite a tolerable man as long as my privacy is respected. So please understand that I'm a little bit upset at the moment." He was always so polite to women... no matter how cruel it was, which came next.   
Miss Beatrice was silent.   
"You know, a conversation is usually two-way."   
Miss Beatrice was still silent.   
"All right. Since monologues are not my style..." He pushed the only button on the simple torture device. Ariel saw the knife flash in the dim light - for the stylish atmosphere - then it struck the board with a muffled sound.   
Miss Beatrice snorted, but seemed rather stunned, the other woman made a choking sound - apparently she was gagged.   
"Can we talk now?"   
Miss Beatrice was adamantly silent.   
Solomon sighed theatrically and pressed the button again.   
This time Miss Beatrice cried out as the knife cut off the tip of her little finger; her companion also cried out in protest through the gag.   
"No?" Again Solomon pushed the button, again Miss Beatrice cried out. Afterwards, she began to sob.   
"You could just talk to me, you know?"   
But Miss Beatrice did not talk, not even after three more slices were cut off.

Ariel shivered. Her great uncle Erwin, who had served here as a gardener, had lost two and a half fingers in this way, but still under Solomon's father. She had never known what he had done- or hadn't done- but when it came to interrogations, this device was extremely popular.

At the very least, Miss Beatrice had to be respected for her steadfastness, when more than screaming, whimpering and sobbing was not heard by Solomon. At one point he said:   
"Miss Lillian, why don't you replace your friend?" Ariel didn't understand the stifled protest, but it was obviously a _no_. It was always a _no_. But people were probably just like that, that they preferred to inflict pain and suffering on their friends rather than themselves.   
Well, Henry was a special case in this respect, and apart from him she only knew one other man who took the punishment of other servants in special situations, but she didn't want to think about him now.

"All right, all right," Solomon said a while and a whole series of other slices later. "Miss Beatrice won't talk to me." He turned to one of the waiting guards. "See that she gets medical attention. We don't want her to die of _infection_. And prepare the black bedroom."   
"Of course, sir."

~

She couldn't help but take a look into the bedroom. The Netzer family was very obviously without shame and the door was wide open, while Solomon thrust into Miss Lillian, whose hands were tied to the headboard of the bed.   
It smelled of blackberries. The strong aphrodisiac used so often by Solomon and Sam on their toys was a worse torture than all the rape that was yet to come. It put the body into a permanent state very close to orgasm, but without allowing any real relief.   
For hours.   
Miss Lillian was squirming, moaning, begging...

"Dad, you know how I dislike women," Sam complained just as Solomon gave a final grunt.   
Miss Lillian whimpered as he pulled away.   
"Turn her over, for God's sake. Ass is ass," Solomon returned a little out of breath.   
"Is Todd here?"   
"Yes, sir," it squeaked humbly from a corner.   
"Help me undress," Sam demanded. Todd entered Ariel's field of vision, handed Solomon a handkerchief for the condom and then a damp washcloth.   
"Do you think Henry would enjoy a little variety?" Solomon then casually asked.   
"I'm sure he would."


	5. Chapter 5

She knelt in the darkness, as it was requested. Only the quiet breaths of Sam and Henry broke the silence. It wasn't so often anymore that Sam asked someone to watch over his sleep, but still every now and then. She had had to watch them having sex and then fall asleep as a sweaty, sticky bundle of body limbs. One of the girls had touched herself sometime and lost a hand for it.   
Those whom Sam did not trust had to wear little bells during this service and woe betide them if Sam was woken by a little bell. Henry's only order was not to wake him whenever he had nightmares. But whoever had once seen Henry, how Sam tore him out of such dreams, did not do it voluntarily anyway.  
  
Henry's breathing quickened, became frantic, he whimpered and twitched. One might wonder what exactly could still give a man like him nightmares, but such things existed.   
"Hey, Henry... shut up!" Sam grumbled sleepily and nudged Henry. "Ey."   
With a very unmanly whimper Henry woke up and raised his head jerkily. He gasped in horror and immediately sank back into his pillow.   
"Go back to sleep," he muttered to Sam, who growled in response. There was only one reason for these nightmares that made him jump up so calmly: the car accident which had killed Henry's sister.   
  
~  
  
She entered the garage and stopped. Adrian was alone, slowly polishing the driver's door of Henry's black jeep. She could see the muscles working under his shirt and almost even the scars bulging across his back. For a moment she just watched him and her heart grew heavy. She had no siblings, but she considered Adrian as a brother. Reluctantly, not wanting to disturb him, she walked up to him and touched him gently on the shoulder, but before she could say anything the door opened and one of the errand boys stumbled in.   
"Henry wants... his car in exactly..." he gasped and looked at the clock, "in exactly six minutes in the yard."   
Adrian simply nodded and Ariel pulled back her hand, stepping aside as Adrian, without lifting his eyes, cleared the things for polishing and then got into the jeep. The sound of the engine echoed in the garage like thunder and she shivered. That sound, that car didn't match the gentle man Adrian was.   
She followed the jeep, which slowly rolled out of the garage, out into the yard. From the castle itself, Henry and Sam came straight out and headed for the car Adrian was hastily sliding out of.   
On Henry's face lay disgust. On the one hand against the jeep, on the other hand he hated Adrian. Adrian loved cars, that was reason enough. With a slight bow, Adrian handed over the car keys and then hurriedly opened the passenger door for Sam.   
The jeep rolled roaring through the castle gate and the gentleness in Adrian's dark eyes turned to hate.   
"Just cause an accident and die together," he murmured gloomily.   
There was nothing left of the gratitude that Solomon had paid for the orphan boy's education and then taken him in.   
Henry had whipped it out of him.


	6. Chapter 6

She always found it amazing how relaxed the atmosphere in the servants' quarters could be. There was joking and laughter, children were running around. It was a colourful mess, because nobody had to wear the inconspicuous uniforms of his area, and she didn't stand out at all in her red sweater.

In the computer room sat André and Chris, with the intro to a World of Warcraft dungeon flickering across their screens. At another table, Mirko and Rebecca were engrossed in a League of Legends match, with Rebecca cursing non-stop.

In the next room, Helena and Benny spiked a target with darts, and Fabio, Armand, Louis, and Robert pondered the next shot at the pool table. Tall-Martin, Franziska and a girl whose name Ariel couldn't remember discussed about computer games.

But in the big dining room she paused.   
"...the boy is a walking disaster!" Nose-Martin, still in his uniform, was visibly upset.   
"I know that," Matthew returned with a sigh. In jeans and a T-shirt, he appeared relaxed, though his face was full of worried lines.   
"Then why do you keep assigning him to Sam?", Martin asked furiously.   
"Because he has to learn to deal with stress," Matthew said, almost in his usual serious tone. "You know as well as I do that he can serve perfectly well down here. But he must be able to do the same for Solomon or Sam."   
"But he can't!" Martin almost spit. "And if this keeps going on, at some point, Sam is just gonna kill him."   
Matthew sighed. "That would solve the problem very effectively, don't you think?"   
Out of angry amazement, Martin lacked the words and Ariel stepped up to them.   
"Guys..."   
Martin grimaced. "You spend too much time with Henry."   
Since Matthew was Henry's deputy as steward, this was absolutely necessary. Accordingly, Matthew denied himself an answer.   
When Martin turned to Ariel, his face was filled with rage and helplessness. He opened his mouth, but then merely shook his head silently and left.

All three of them had been old enough to understand the things when Solomon became the head of the family. To know what horror the castle left behind, what relief Solomon would bring. And they had to watch Solomon's son grow into something that would later make Solomon's strict reign seem like paradise in retrospect.   
Unlike Martin and Ariel, Matthew had no mark, he knew the outside world well, but at some point hope will just die.

In Matthew's eyes, hope was dying.   
Sadly he looked at Ariel, sadly she looked back.   
"I'm sorry," he murmured silently.   
"Don't be. We can't save them all, we know that," she said softly and he nodded weakly.   
Even though their relationship had been broken for a while, she still loved him. And he still cared for her, had held her in his arms and cried with her after Sam had played with her last time.   
When he turned to leave, she didn't follow him, she kept quiet, although she didn't want to.  
But relationships weren't made for eternity here in the castle.


	7. Chapter 7

She had just turned to leave, Samira beside her, when Sam gave a growl.   
"Sir?"   
He looked at her the way Sam looked at people with his limited vision. "Make sure there's someone in my bed after dinner."   
"Of course, sir." Samira indicated a bow before she and Ariel went out. Whoever received such an order had to carry it out himself. It wasn't even necessarily Sam's intention behind it, but a decision of the servants themselves. Because who would decide it? Accordingly, those who served Sam were unlucky and Samira was old enough by now not to be considered a child anymore. And Ariel would certainly not enter his bed voluntarily, the thought alone caused her severe nausea. 

In the corridor Samira started to tremble and had to lean against the wall for a moment. Her narrow mouse face was as white as chalk and her thin fingers bent like claws. Ariel bit her lip and then turned away, they all had their duties.

~

When she, together with Martin and Samira, later entered Sam's rooms again to clear away the dinner, it was Henry who nodded his head in the direction of the connecting door to the bedroom.   
Samira bowed and scurried away.   
"Who is it this time?" Sam wanted to know with a sigh - as if it were an annoying duty to abuse his servants.   
"Samira," Henry said neutrally. He knew by name everyone old enough to be in service.   
Sam made a disgusted sound. "Another woman."   
"Then next time just specify your wishes," Henry suggested, emptied his glass and nodded to Martin and Ariel.   
"If I want _good_ sex, I'll go to you."   
"And you think bad sex is better than nothing? Even if it frustrates you?"   
"To come or not to come." Sam's lips curled in amusement before he rose.   
Henry sighed, rubbed his eyes and disappeared without another word.

Sam hadn't closed the door completely behind him and the noises reaching the dining room made Ariel's skin tingle uncomfortably.   
"Ariel!" Martin hissed warningly. "What are you doing?"   
"Closing the door," she whispered back as she slipped across the room.   
"If Sam sees you..."   
"Shh!" She put her hand on the doorknob and froze. 

Sam had buried one hand in Samira's brown curls, the other hanging casually by his side. The way he thrust into her mouth, you couldn't call it a blowjob, nor could he really enjoy it - apart from the perverse pleasure itself. Samira choked so violently that it shook her whole petite body and it almost seemed as if Sam was the one holding her upright.   
"Mmm..." Sam purred, Samira whimpered and held on to his leg in order not to lose balance. Immediately the purring changed into a growl. He yanked her back by the hair, gave her a sharp slap and pushed back into her mouth without hesitating. 

Ariel turned away. She would have liked to curl up under a thick blanket now. In Martin's face lay this helpless rage that she knew so well from him. But he was disciplined enough on duty to clear the dishes without unnecessary clinking, and he grabbed the tray with the momentum of years of practice. As his gaze flicked up to her, something like disgust fluttered across his features.   
"There are duties waiting."   
She nodded and bit her lip when Samira choked particularly loud. The next moment Sam yelled as she vomited. 

"Duties..." Martin murmured and hurried out of the room.   
Ariel knew very well he was praying that he was not the one who had to clean up this mess and afterwards endure Sam's anger.   
She couldn't blame him.


	8. Chapter 8

She flinched as Solomon opened the door to Sam's dining room and - still in a traveling coat - stormed in furiously. Martin next to her swallowed hard and ducked his head.   
"What," Solomon began, barely controlled, "did I tell you? Who or what is taboo?"   
While Sam made an angry face, Henry questioningly raised an eyebrow. If he didn't know what Sam had done, things were bad.   
"Scott's a traitorous bastard," Sam complained, bypassing Solomon's question.   
"Scott is under my orders, son, and in this house only _my_ secrets are real secrets."   
"Sam, what have you done?" Henry was suspicious. Solomon rumbled:   
"He's arrested two members of a special military unit from Dolovai."   
"Sam!" Such people were taboo.   
"They hiked in my mountains!"   
"They're _not_ your mountains, goddamn it! And they weren't in plainclothes either, so don't tell me!" Solomon was really angry and he had every reason to be. People like these were missed. People like these were sought.   
Sam sulked. "You haven't brought me anyone to play with for ages. It gets boring hearing the same screams over and over again."   
"Sam!" Henry made again.   
"One is in the dungeon, what have you done with the other?" Solomon asked after taking a deep breath to calm himself. Sam flicked toward the door and Martin swallowed hard again before hurryingly opening the door and making a pleading gesture. He had probably had to help Sam.

"What the...?," Solomon started irritated, but broke off. Henry's eyebrows moved to unexpected heights.   
"I didn't know you had such fantasies..."   
A young man hesitantly stepped out of the bedroom. He wore an oversized diaper, blue and white striped socks, a light blue bow around his neck and had a strange-looking soother in his mouth. Mentally Ariel corrected herself: he had to suck on a butt plug.   
"The other one called him his baby brother."   
"Ah.", Solomon made, still irritated.   
"You're not seriously just gonna bring them back, are you?" Sam wanted to know, but they all knew the answer already. Those who didn't come here at Solomon's invitation only left the castle as dead meat.   
"Show me the other one," Solomon demanded instead.

~

She had snuck into the dungeon behind the men, despite Martin's plea to leave, her curiosity was simply too strong.   
In one of the cells there was a man with dark hair, the chain with which his hands were tied was hanging from a hook from the ceiling. He was naked, except for a pair of skin-tight underpants in military green. And apparently he was clever, because he kept his mouth shut when his companion was pushed into a corner of the cell.   
"So... you said this is your _baby brother_?" Solomon asked, artificially bored.   
"Yes. Edwin is my little brother."   
"And _your_ name?"   
"Erik."   
"Ah. Well, Erik... I suppose you love your little brother?"   
Erik nodded.   
"How much?"   
"Enough to fuck him."   
Edwin made a pitiful sound, but the statement actually made Solomon chuckle.   
"All right, you can play with him a little." With an inviting gesture and a nod towards Erik accompanied by a malicious smile, he walked away; Ariel ducked deeper into the shadows so he wouldn't see her.

"Do you love your brother too?" Sam wanted to know.   
Edwin's answer was incomprehensible because of the thing in his mouth.   
"God, let him take this thing out. Shove it somewhere else for all I care," Henry murmured, still not seeming thrilled.   
"Hmm. Take it out and then answer my question."   
"Yes," Edwin said very softly, "I love my brother."   
"Henry, give me your knife."   
"Sure." Henry pulled a small pocket knife out of his pocket and handed it to Sam.   
"The real knife!"   
"I'm in a suit, you think I'm carrying that bulky thing around with me?" Henry rumbled back.   
Sam snorted. "Fine. Edwin, write _I love you_ with the knife in Erik's chest."   
"In... into... into the skin?"   
"Where else?"   
Reluctantly Edwin took the knife and joined Erik.   
"It's all right, kiddo," he muttered.   
Edwin sniffed and drew a very fine line.   
"You can't even see it," Sam protested immediately.   
Edwin sniffed again and cut deeper, Erik hissed through his clenched teeth.

"Push that thing in the back of him and then take that awful thing off," Sam then demanded of Edwin. He gave Henry back the knife and hesitated only briefly before pulling Erik's underpants down, putting the butt plug back in his mouth to moisten it and then slowly sinking it between Erik's buttocks.   
"I'm sorry," he whispered, but Erik just grunted suppressed. The cuts on his chest must hurt terribly, but he took the treatment with composure. For a moment Ariel wondered if the rumours were true that the military was sometimes a bit rough.   
"Edwin, come here." Meanwhile Sam had opened his trousers and was rubbing himself.   
"Yes, sir." Edwin said softly, taking off the oversized diaper and approaching Sam.

If Erik's expression hadn't been so fascinating, she would have disappeared long ago, but so Ariel still stood in the shadows. Surprisingly, Edwin made a bunch of lustful noises, while Erik's eyes almost fell out of his head from greed.   
"You know, Sam, we should keep them both," Henry spoke up.   
"'Cause?" Sam's response was little more than a busy grunt.   
"Edwin seems to like it. And he's cute. And Erik looks like he can't decide whether to slit your throat out of jealousy or jerk off at the sight of you." That summed it up pretty well. Sam grunted again.   
"You like Edwin?" he asked.   
"I said he's cute. And it-"   
"Oargh!" Edwin's orgasm interrupted Henry.   
"That's what I meant."   
Sam made a throaty sound and clawed his fingers into Edwin's hip, then sighed. As he pulled out, Edwin whispered:   
"Thank you, sir." He leaned against the wall and sank halfway to the ground. Sam giggled a little out of breath.   
"Military discipline. I like it."   
Henry sighed. "I'm busy, Sam, so..."   
"Yeah, yeah... your paperwork's not going anywhere."   
Henry sighed again. "Neither do these two."   
"Right." Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "We'll keep them for now. Dad gave me permission to play with them, and I will. It's nice when no one screams."   
"You have odd priorities. Wait, I'll get the guards..." Henry turned away.   
Sam couldn't see it, but the sparkle in Erik's eyes was now dangerous. He would do stupid things, Ariel was sure of it.   
And if Sam was in a good mood, he would get plenty of time to regret those stupid things.


	9. Chapter 9

She had a blackout. This was nothing unusual anymore, but it always made her a little nervous, because sometimes she found herself in places where she shouldn't be.   
For the moment, however, she stood in the middle of the park, relatively close to the pavilion, and blinked into the late afternoon sun.   
"...that has nothing to do with it." The light breeze carried over both the slight smell of sulphur from the mountains and Henry's voice. "Solomon wants to take advantage of the weather, as long as it's good."   
"The weather forecast changes more often for this area here as Solomon washes his hands," Matthew replied skeptically. He had his back to the pond, but he was uncomfortable being out here.   
"All true, but Solomon wants to have the meeting out here." Henry shrugged as if he didn't care. Matthew nodded slightly, then he pointed upwards.   
"What about the roof?"   
"Will be renewed in the spring."   
"If it doesn't survive the winter, the rest will take damage."   
Henry sighed and left the pavilion towards the pond, took a few steps back and inspected the roof from there. Matthew followed him a little hesitantly, not looking at the pond. There, on the floating platform, his father had died. It had been quite a while, long enough that Ariel couldn't remember his name, only that he had climbed steadily up the career ladder until he had been awarded with the somewhat silly title of warlord. She couldn't have said how he died either, but she clearly remembered holding Matthew's hand.

Whatever exactly the conversation was about, it was obviously over and the two men went back to the house. Matthew must have noticed her, but he didn't look in her direction, probably so that Henry wouldn't notice her and ask her what she was doing out here.

~

"The windows!" From one second to another the weather changed, a strong wind howled around the castle and within the next few minutes rain would join in. Immediately the servants became hectic - woe to the one who allowed the chaos to develop in one of the sacred rooms. Ariel dashed from room to room with the others. The windows in Henry's office were closed, but she took a look into the adjacent meeting room for the sake of safety.

"You know damn well this is not my fault!"   
She flinched when Matthew and Henry entered the office and the door fell loudly into the lock.   
"I'm well aware of it, but there are some here who think differently," Henry replied. From the sound of it, he threw a pile of documents on the desk. After a quick glance at the closed windows, she went back to the connecting door. If she now apologized quietly...   
"Sam can't take his frustration out on the entire chain of command," said Matthew seriously but with a pleading undertone. Ariel peered around the corner and grimaced. Henry's whole attitude boded ill.   
"He can and he will, I suppose." He took a meaningful pause. "Unless we settle this between you and me." The two men measured each other with glances. Basically, they were similar in many ways. Tall and well-built, with dark hair and dark eyes. Both wore the shirt sleeves- as long as the temperatures allowed it- preferably rolled up a little and preferred shoes made of matt-finished leather. Both tried to be as diplomatic as possible and to keep Sam and Solomon out of things.

That's why Matthew finally lowered his eyes and nodded slightly.   
"Fine," Henry said softly. Ariel had missed her chance and bit her lip as Henry took a heavy jackknife with a nasty blade from his desk. Matthew's aversion to knives was the only reason why he did it, because usually Sam was the one playing with knives. Henry pressed the tip of the blade into the hollow of Matthew's neck and then - without removing the knife from his skin - tapped against the top button of his shirt.   
"Undress."   
Matthew's outfit as deputy steward was something like an armor for him, but he obeyed and slowly opened the shirt buttons, careful not to hurt himself on the blade that Henry constantly placed in the middle of the path. Finally he pulled the shirt out of his pants, grazed it off his shoulders and tossed it to the side. His eyes glided over Ariel and for a brief moment he seemed surprised, but the resignation of the inevitable came back immediately.   
"Open," Henry commanded softly and in a curt gesture indicated that he meant his own shirt and trousers.

While Matthew obeyed the order, Henry used the blade to give him a few fine but probably quite painful scratches. Henry's suit trousers slipped to the ground and Matthew carefully pulled down his underpants. The knife lay to the side of his neck and left a visible red stripe when he got down on his knees. By the way he then let his hands slide over Henry's thigh and started working with his mouth it was obvious that this was not the first time the two of them had come to an agreement in this manner.

Henry was already taking his time to get hard at all and Matthew's face showed a certain desperation as the knife slid steadily over his skin- face, neck, arms, and shoulders, scratching across the zigzag scar that ran down from his right shoulder almost across the entire back of his chest and was the reason for his aversion to knives.

When the knife touched his face, he tried to avoid it. During one of these attempts he turned so far that his gaze fell back on Ariel.   
She didn't want to be here, didn't want to have to watch, didn't want to see the shame and helplessness on his face, the bitterness of knowing that he would be punished anyway.   
She didn't want to see the tears which were caused by all these feelings.

Henry came with a sensual groan that drowned out Matthew's slight choking. Afterwards, however, he had the decency to at least hand him a handkerchief to wipe his mouth.   
"I'm glad we've got that cleared up," he then explained, relaxed, pointing with the red knife tip at a visitor's chair in front of his desk. "Now, where were we before?"   
Ariel didn't want to be here, but as it seemed, she was really stuck.   
The same thought was written on Matthew's face covered in blood-red streaks.


	10. Chapter 10

She stood in a line with the other servants waiting next to the pavilion, her hands clasped behind her back. Solomon was lucky, the weather was beautiful.  
"...but no, the minister was delighted! Really, my dear, you shouldn't worry so much." Francesca DiGorre had linked arms with Solomon, together they strolled along the path towards the pavilion. Behind them followed a disgruntled looking Sam with Henry at his side, one of Francesca's sons accompanied by a man leading a giant dog on a leash, and Matthew, who completed the trail with a professional-neutral look. In matters such as these he wore his shirt sleeves properly, and a grey-red servant's waistcoat and tie. He looked dashing, important.

The six of them had just sat down, when a procession was already rushing to serve lunch.  
"I do hope your taste hasn't changed." Solomon's politeness had a slightly flirty undertone.  
"Alas, I must disappoint you," Francesca returned with a cheeky smile that made her son roll his eyes. But the bonnets were taken off the plates and she gave off a delightful purr. "However, I won't say _no_ to the delicacies of the area."  
"The area offers delicacies?" Sam murmured softly, but loud enough that even the waiting servants heard it.  
"That's Dragon Bird, the-" Matthew's explanation was interrupted by a loud _woof_ from the giant dog.  
"Hush, Dragon, it's not you," muttered the companion of Francesca's son. Matthew blinked, a little out of focus.  
"We can have something brought to him if-"  
"No, no, he's only just eaten, he'll have to be patient."  
"Right." Francesca nodded and Solomon continued the polite chatter.  
"I hear you are going to be a grandmother?"  
"Oh yes! How exciting!"  
The four young men at the table made a face.  
"But tell me, how about _your_ children?"  
Sam seemed appalled.  
"Oh, I think it's gonna be a while..." Solomon beckoned and Ariel remembered the whisper that his own concubine was supposed to be pregnant.

Francesca's son- Franz- made a request and Matthew flicked towards one of the errand boys- who immediately ran away- before mumbling softly into the microphone on his wrist.  
"Very efficient," Franz remarked politely.  
"Order and discipline, strictly observed," said Solomon, nodding to him. "You have to be strict but fair and, in the right places, kind."  
"Wouldn't it be better the other way around? You are kind and in the right places strict?", Franz asked, his innocent tone could not hide the subliminal provocation.  
"Isn't it the same?', Henry asked, no less innocent, and thus began an endeavored polite discussion.

"Boys, why don't you go and play for a while?", Francesca asked in a motherly tone which elicited a wry look from all those addressed. The boys she was referring to were all of age. Nevertheless, Franz said:  
"Well, the castle would interest me."  
"The castle is-"  
"Sam, why don't you show our guests the castle? Francesca and I have a few things to discuss." Solomon's tone of voice didn't allow for any backtalk.  
"Yes, Dad." Sam sighed.  
"I'm going to explore the park with Dragon," announced Franz's friend Benny, and Dragon happily made _woof_.  
Matthew made a few curt gestures which caused the table to be cleared completely and at the same time two guards approached, each carrying an important looking briefcase. At a final flick, Ariel and the others bowed towards the pavilion and then marched away in single file.

~

"Has anyone called Boey?", Franz asked with a frown, one hand on the car door.  
 _Who is Boey?_ Ariel asked herself briefly, but hurried off with Martin when Henry gave the group of servants ready for duty a wave.  
"You three go to the park, you two search the ground level area around the courtyards, you spread out in the castle," Martin shouted to their comrades. The group dispersed.  
"Who is Boey?", she finally asked aloud.  
"Franz's companion. Don't you have ears on your head?"  
"Yes, of course. But somehow... Sorry. I'm stuck with Benny."  
"I really hope Benny _doesn't_ get stuck with you. It would upset Helena deeply."  
She tried to punch him, but he avoided her.

As they approached the kitchens, there was suddenly chaos all around them. Excited and nervous voices chattered in a mess and Matthew's instructions almost got lost in the noise.  
 **"Silence** , goddamn it! For God's sake, will you all just **shut up**!" he finally yelled. Immediately it became quiet. When Matthew lowered himself to a thing like that, he was not to be trifled with. "For God's sake!" From the storeroom behind him there was growling and barking.  
"Go to work, clean up this mess, send me two guards in gear and for your soul's sake see that Francesca _doesn't find out_!"  
Ariel shivered.  
"What happened?" Martin wanted to know and pushed past the other servants, Ariel followed in his wake. Matthew sighed and rubbed his face.  
"This monster of a dog has caused a disaster."  
"Oh, God. To what extent?"  
When Matthew spoke of disasters, it was serious. He nodded over to a corner of the servants' kitchen and Ariel gasped for air while Martin gave a silent _oh_. Something had exploded there and burned, blackened and bent metal still flickering. But it was only when her gaze fell on the human form, which looked as if it had partly just melted, when she realized that there would be no roast for dinner, as the smell had suggested.  
"What happened?" she asked softly, suppressing the rising nausea.  
Matthew sighed deeply.  
"How could this have happened?" Martin also wanted to know, disbelief on his face.  
"I don't know, I wasn't here and there's nothing useful to be got out of the others yet. God, whoever let this monster in here isn't going to escape unscathed." He didn't need to say that he himself would probably not get off the hook either. Martin wanted to say something, but two security men in combat gear appeared.  
"Sir?"  
Matthew pointed to the storage room. "Take the dog out the back door and back to the DiGorres." The two nodded and squeezed through the door, already struggling not to let the dog escape into the kitchen.  
"How do we explain this to Solomon and Francesca?" Martin finally asked quietly. Matthew grimaced and pressed his lips together for a moment.  
"I will tell Henry the truth as far as possible. Whatever the truth is," he said after a minute. Ariel rubbed her arms in discomfort.  
"Do you think-" she started, but was interrupted by someone:  
"Matthew! Henry wants to see you!"  
"On my way!" Matthew called back and turned to Martin. "Can I-"  
"Immediately!"  
"On my way! God. Can I count on you?"  
"Of course." Martin nodded hurriedly.  
"Good." Matthew patted him briefly on the shoulder and then hurried away as fast as his dignity allowed.  
Looking over the mess, Martin mumbled: "Good Lord, if that dog really is responsible, then I fully understand why Solomon allows his children only human pets."


	11. Chapter 11

She stood in the garage, frowning, looking around. Ronny was screwing around with some small parts, whistling all crooked, while Mike was hanging halfway up the engine compartment of Solomon's BMW; he was listening to music so loud that Ariel understood every single word. Adrian, however, was nowhere to be seen and it didn't seem as if he had just gone to the toilet. But as absorbed as the other two were in their work, she didn't need to ask them.

In the computer room she spotted Frank, one of the guys who often helped out in the garage and hung out with Adrian quite a bit.   
"Hey, Frank..."   
"Dude, healing? Hello?"   
"Yo, heal yourself, man!" Rebecca snapped back, while Mirko growled:   
"Just be more careful next time."   
"Frank, did you-"   
"Excuse me, but I'm the tank here! I insist on healing as needed!"   
"Should have taken the cape and not the sword, huh?" Rebecca smugly threw in.   
"Frank..."   
"Just because I'm doing the tank doesn't mean I can't blow some damage!"   
"If you want to play off-tank, go join Chris and André."   
"I want a proper healer, that's all!"   
"Even a good healer cannot keep a bad tank constantly alive," Chris promptly threw into the conversation.   
"Hey! Quiet back there!"   
She gave up.

Martin hadn't seen Adrian and Matthew had fallen asleep over his documents so she didn't want to disturb him. Everyone else was far too preoccupied with themselves to pay much attention to their surroundings and she knew from her own experience that the quiet personalities would quickly get lost.

"Heavens, did you see Henry's face?" one of the laundry girls murmured softly to her friend.   
"Thank God not, why?" The other one was adjusting a basket of freshly ironed laundry on her hip.   
"He looked like he was going to kill someone."   
"It's nothing new. Who did he get this time?"  
"I don't know, I didn't really want to know so exactly. But he had the whip with him..."

~

Ariel almost fell down the steps as she hurried into the dungeon.   
The whip snapped.   
The cry of pain sounded tortured and weak. She stumbled over her own feet and flinched as the whip snapped again. This time she could assign the scream to Adrian.   
"No!" Her own cry of protest was little more than an exhausted wheeze, after running all the way down here. Henry, his arm already raised again, turned around irritated, the tip of the whip twitching against the wall right next to her. Startled she squeaked, stumbled, bounced backwards against the wall and went down.   
Since Henry had illuminated the small cell where Adrian was hanging from the wall in chains with bright spotlights to blind him and torture him even more, he too was blind to the relative darkness of the dungeon corridor. She took advantage of this fact and crawled hastily out of his field of vision. But she had achieved what she wanted, for he had lost his rhythm.   
"No..." Adrian whispered, "no..." He sobbed and muttered incomprehensible things to himself. Half sighing, half growling, Henry threw the whip aside. The soft clicking noises that came out of it made Ariel shudder - he had had metal splinters worked into it. Metal splinters from the car in which his sister had died, so that someone else could show off the scars of _his soul_ even better.   
"You are lucky today." Henry sounded like an animal and moved like one, in heavy half-boots and dirty jeans, the upper part of his body naked and sweaty. He grabbed a bucket and poured the content energetically against Adrian's back.   
Salt water.   
Adrian's shrill scream broke off when his voice failed him. The empty bucket flew rattling into a corner. With another growl, Henry pressed a button, releasing the chains and causing Adrian to collapse on the floor with a muffled sound.   
"Someone's coming for you..." Henry spat at his feet, took his whip and trotted off.

"Adrian?"   
He sniffled.   
"Adrian!"   
He blinked at her, pain and sadness in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.   
"I wish... I can't... oh, God!" Now she herself began to sob.   
"Stop it," he asked her hoarsely but gently. "You shouldn't be here, you hear? You should leave."   
"I'm so sorry! I was looking for you and-"   
"Ariel, you have to go."   
"No! No, I'll wait here until someone comes."   
Adrian sighed softly. She caressed his damp hair and tried not to look at his back, which was nothing but a bloody mass.

Eventually he lost consciousness, his cramped muscles relaxed a little and Ariel wiped tears from her cheeks with her red sweater sleeve. The wet fabric had almost the colour of blood.   
"Adrian?" It was Matthew and at the sound of his voice Adrian blinked irritated. "Adrian! Good Lord, what has Henry done now..." Matthew's voice faded when he actually saw Adrian.   
"Matt..." Adrian muttered and raised his head. Ariel backed away as Matthew lowered himself beside Adrian and reached out to help him up.   
"No, your shirt..."   
"Fuck the shirt!"   
With some groaning and painful moaning Adrian came to his feet.   
"You're so damn heavy..." Matthew murmured.   
"It's all muscle, you ass," Adrian protested weakly.   
"If you weren't stuck here, you could impress a lot of girls out there..." It was an attempt at loving encouragement between men whose hope and courage was waning.   
"Yeah, sure..." Adrian leaned against the wall and looked at Ariel with sad bitterness. "Go... please..."   
Matthew frowned.   
"You've done enough."   
Although this was anything but true, she fled. To see the two men she cared so much about with such desperate helplessness in their eyes was too much.


	12. Chapter 12

She had already raised her hand to knock when she paused. Matthew was talking to someone and the voices sounded angry. She lowered her hand and hesitated, but at this moment the door opened and Daisy strutted out, ignoring Ariel, and with a fine mean smile on her face. Irritated, Ariel looked after her. Firstly, she had no place in the servants' wing since she was Solomon's concubine, and secondly, that smile did not fit at all with the stupid girl she pretended to be.   
Ariel took a look into the room. Matthew trembled with suppressed anger, lips pressed together as a bloodless line, hands clenched in fists.   
"Matthew?", she asked quietly and carefully, but he ignored her- he did that every now and then to keep his anger from spilling over onto other people- and stepped to the cabinet with the personnel files. He typed a code into the combination lock, it clicked, and then he picked out three files with growing disgust on his face.   
Either Daisy had told him some dirty secrets or she was blackmailing him with something to make him do something for her. When the files hit the table, she withdrew to avoid giving Matthew an outlet for his anger.   
"What a bitch..." he muttered.

~

More than just a little irritated and with a pounding headache she blinked into the gym. It was empty and quiet. She used to come here with just one of the boys, because the guards, some of whom were _always_ hanging around and flaunting, made her nervous. The usual stale smell of sweat was soaked with something else and when she turned around at Solomon's loud yelling towards the stairs leading up to his private training area, she knew why.   
"I don't give a fuck! I want to know who's responsible!"   
She pressed a hand on her mouth and swallowed a choke with difficulty. The stairs swam in blood. On the lower steps lay a guard facedown, and judging by the slits in his back, he was dead.   
"I want to know who's been hanging around here in the last few hours!" Solomon yelled again.   
Morbid curiosity drove Ariel toward the stairs, carefully ascending them. On the landing, another guard sat leaning against the wall, his head sunk to his chest, holding part of his intestines in his hand. She shivered. Now she could hear the soft murmur of other voices, apparently speaking very sheepishly to Solomon.   
If someone discovered her here, she had a problem. Solomon had always been nice to her, but he would still make her the scapegoat.   
She kept climbing the stairs.   
Bloody fingers clasped the last step, the dead body was already halfway in the upper gym.   
"Now!"   
"Yes, sir." Heavy steps hurried away, over the connection into Solomon's private area of the castle. Solomon's softer footsteps followed, and it was only when the door fell into the lock that Ariel really took a look upstairs. There were two more guards lying there in their blood, one of them had his throat slit so violently that it almost decapitated him. She knew no one among the servants who could take on five trained guards, least of all with such violence.   
The floor was swimming in blood. The walls were full of blood spatter. And then her eyes fell on Daisy.   
She was lying on a training bench looking up at the ceiling with dead eyes. Whoever had done this had rudely ripped her clothes to expose her. The word _slut_ was carved into her abdomen. A blood-covered knife blade shimmered between her legs, the handle completely rammed into her pussy.   
It had almost something symbolic.   
Ariel swallowed heavily and turned away. She had to get out of here.

As she carefully went back down the stairs, the whispering that Daisy was pregnant came back to her mind.   
Someone must have wanted to do the castle a favour, because another Solomon offspring was the last thing they needed.


	13. Chapter 13

She watched as two servants carefully steered the large serving trolley along the path to the pavilion.   
She watched the food being served.   
Watched Solomon, Sam, Henry and their guests- Jocelyn and her son James- eat and drink cooled wine.   
Meanwhile, she stood in a row with other waiting servants in the sun, sweating. In the air hung not only the smell of sweat but also a strange tension which made her skin tingle and which certainly didn't come from an impending change in the weather.

"Mmm, Solomon, you really must give my regards to your chefs. The spinach tart is exquisite." Jocelyn dabbed her mouth gracefully with a napkin.   
"You're welcome to go in later and do it yourself," Solomon returned before emptying his wine. Todd diligently poured the wine and Ariel noticed with relief that he was no longer trembling as he had been a while ago.   
"We shall see..."   
"What's for dessert?" Sam wanted to know.   
"Triple chocolate mousse, cherry tartlets and mulberry compote," Todd said hurriedly.   
"I had asked for tiramisu," Sam complained.   
"Sam!" Henry and Solomon warned simultaneously. Next to Ariel, Matthew hurriedly took two steps forward.   
"Sir, the tiramisu you requested will be served separately tonight. It contains raw egg yolk, and that doesn't seem like a good idea considering the temperature today."   
Sam mumbled an answer, but Henry already helped Todd put the plates and platters of desserts on the table.

Martin's stomach rumbled audibly and he distorted his face slightly. Matthew, on Ariel's other side, made a suppressed warning sound. Normally he stood at least an arm's length from the other servants, but this time he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ariel. She could smell his deodorant and Martin's sweat.   
On Martin's other side stood Sven and from experience she knew that he would smell even worse than Martin, but at least his hair was washed. Why he was one of the _personal servants_ was a mystery to Ariel with his often unkempt appearance, but probably he gave good blowjobs or Sam liked his screams; she didn't want to know so exactly.

Dessert was barely touched when James whined and asked:   
"Mum, can I go and see the park?"   
"Stay here near the pavilion."   
"Okay..." There was something weird about the teenager.   
"He's a little difficult these days," Jocelyn sighed, and Solomon nodded slowly.   
"You know the mantra: It's just a phase."   
"Um, is he really hugging a tree right now?" Henry asked perplexed in between, also to tell Sam what just happened.   
"Lord in heaven," Sam muttered just loud enough to reach the servants.   
"He has a passion for plants..." Now Jocelyn sounded resigned.   
"Enough to smoke them?" Sam wanted to know. Jocelyn just sighed, but that explained a lot, apparently. For example, his strange way of moving or his strange eyes.   
"I would very much appreciate it if he _didn't_ enter the pond," Solomon then remarked calmly but with a critical sideways glance as James undressed in the middle of the meadow.   
"James, you stay ashore!"   
"Yes, Mum..." Instead he lay naked on a sunny patch of the meadow and caressed the grass.

"You shouldn't be here," Matthew mumbled to Ariel, barely audible.   
"Hmm?"   
"I didn't assign you to the service."   
"No?" Irritated, she looked at him from the corner of her eye.   
"No."   
She couldn't remember talking to anyone about it. Could she have just seen the list on the bulletin board? But even if she had, someone must have put her up to it, and since Henry rarely did that himself, it was Matthews' business. But if it wasn't him...   
The thought made her really, really nervous. Could she be punished for showing up for duty uninvited?

"James, would you please go inside with Sam and Henry?" Jocelyn shouted to her son, who was still in the grass.   
"It's so beautiful out here!"   
"Solomon and I have some things to discuss."   
James mumbled an answer and picked a daisy.   
"For example, numbers with more digits than the flower has petals."   
"Oh. Okay." He put the daisy in his mouth and started chewing on it while collecting his things. Henry shook his head gently at the sight, but then led Sam and James back to the castle. Todd had cleared the table in the meantime and Matthew signalled someone to help him with the trolley. Then Solomon nodded at Matthew, who flicked. The line of waiting servants dissolved.

Jocelyn was not only a business partner but also a friend, which made these meetings almost informal. Well, it was formal enough that Matthew wore a waistcoat and tie, but the servants went back to the castle in disorder and Matthew almost immediately began to roll up his shirt sleeves. A little out of balance by his statement, Ariel followed the others a little slower.   
"You must tell her," Matthew said quietly, addressing Martin.   
"Why me?", he asked back in amazement. "That's your job."   
"I can't. Believe me, I can't. It's not..." A certain despair emanated from his voice.   
"I... I don't think I can do this," Martin said after a short hesitation. Matthew tugged at his sleeves and she discovered a long scar on his left forearm which was definitely not fresh but which she had never seen there before.   
"Really, Matthew, _you_ should do it."   
"I know. But I just can't." His hands twitched and he put them in his trouser pockets, his posture revealed his tension.   
"Maybe... maybe Adrian could... But you'd have to tell him that he..."   
"Hmm." Matthew made vague. "Adrian is still recovering."   
"I know, but those two..."   
"Hmm." Matthew made again. Ariel wondered who and what they were talking about, but she didn't dare to intrude on the conversation.   
"Cowards," Matthew then said bitterly.   
"Hm?"   
"We're fucking cowards."   
"Yeah," Martin admitted uneasily and pulled his shoulders up, "probably."


	14. Chapter 14

She was drawn to the soft clicking and rustling as if by magic and followed the noises down to the first basement level of the security wing. When she entered a dimly lit corridor, the sounds died down, but light came out of an open door and she knew she was in the right place. But when she took a look into the room, her mouth opened in surprise.   
The man she had seen die sat on a chair in the corner and carefully checked a slim rifle. The man she had respectfully called warlord. The man who had been like a father to her for many years.   
Matthew's dad.   
"James?" She was so surprised that she remembered his name.   
"Hey, baby girl." He raised his gaze and smiled at her.   
"What... uh... what are you doing here?"   
The rifle clacked loudly, then he stood up and slung it over his back on a belt. "Prepare myself."   
"But..."   
"I'm here to protect my family." He approached her, took her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead. He was dead. And yet his hands and his lips were warm.   
"I'm not your family anymore," she said softly and he sighed.   
"It's unfortunate that I can never call you my daughter, but everyone here is my family." He made a broad gesture. "I'm here to _help_." The emphasis on the word _help_ was strange.   
"James, you-"   
"You haven't seen my knife, have you?" he asked with a frown as he patted down on his battle outfit.   
"No," she replied soundlessly. He looked around the room, which was empty except for the broken chair and a few dented lockers.   
"Damn." He frowned in annoyance. "Okay, baby girl, I'll see you later. Don't do anything stupid."   
Before she could say anything, his whole figure suddenly turned milky white and then disappeared.

~

"Matthew?" she asked cautiously.   
Matthew sighed deeply.   
"Matthew, please, can we talk? Just for a moment."   
He sighed deeply again, got up from his desk and stepped to a documents cabinet.   
"Matt!"   
He looked at her with a frown.   
"It's important!"   
For a tiny moment he seemed confused, then he made a brief gesture of encouragement.   
"I was talking with James," she said softly.   
"With...?" He blinked in amazement. "He's dead, Ariel."   
"I know! But he was there, in this empty room, talking about protecting his family and-"   
"Then maybe he should even _talk_ to his family, don't you think?"   
"He's a ghost, I think. He has..." With Matthew's dismissive look on his face, she couldn't find the words. Helplessly, she stood there and watched as he started again to search the cabinet for something. Anger rose in her and she clenched her hands in fists.   
"Ariel." He half turned to her, his voice unpleasantly cold. "We have to leave the dead behind."   
She took a shaky breath and left without another word.

~

"Matthew said you spoke to James?" Martin shivered in the cool breeze of the evening which brushed over the battlements.   
"Yes," Ariel replied with a suppressed sniff. "He wouldn't listen to me."   
Martin stepped beside her and sighed softly.   
"He ignores me."   
"That's not true."   
"But at least he avoids me."   
"That... maybe a little." In a nervous gesture Martin scratched at his mark. "You should just go."   
"Go? Where to?" she asked bitterly. "With this mark, I could go as far as Dolovai and still I would never be free." It wasn't the first time Martin asked her to leave. Once she had even really had the courage to do so. But right in the first village she had understood that she neither knew the outside world enough nor that it would ever accept her - and not only because of the mark. Sometimes she went to the gates, sometimes she even took a forbidden walk in the forest, but she always came back. She couldn't go, not without her friends.   
"Do you really think it's just because of the mark?" Martin asked cautiously. She snorted.   
"I have nothing, possess nothing. No documents, no identity card. They'll probably just declare me crazy."   
Martin was silent on this.   
"You know, Matthew's 15 years of service will end next spring. He promised me we'd leave together, and now he won't even talk to me." Bitter sadness dripped from her words, Martin seemed tormented.   
"After what Sam did to you..." he started scratching his mark almost frantically again, "...it wasn't easy for Matthew, for any of us, you know?"   
She didn't remember what Sam had done. Well, she remembered being hit, but she had no idea why she had been punished. Matthew had held her afterwards and cried with her, and Martin had been there...   
"Just tell me."   
He bit his lip and looked away. Sven stepped through the door at the end of the battlements.   
"Hey, Martin, Solomon asked for you."   
"Give me a minute, okay?"   
With a sceptical frown Sven nodded and disappeared.   
"Listen Ariel, we'll talk about James and ghosts and Matthew later, okay?"   
"You promise?"   
"I promise!" He hesitated for a moment, then hurried away.   
Solomon's call was more important than his best friend.


	15. Chapter 15

She very much hoped that Solomon had given it some careful thought before allowing Henry's cousins Geoffrey and Giacomo to visit for two weeks. On the other hand, however, he probably could not have foreseen what would happen.   
Devoted, she had scurried after Henry and turned a corner, when he stopped so suddenly that she almost ran into him. Irritated, she squinted past him and raised her eyebrows.   
"Gia-Giacomo?"   
The aforementioned turned around. "Hey."   
"What the hell are you wearing?" Henry wanted to know and didn't sound a bit like himself.   
"Oh... that." Giacomo was painted from head to toe with blue paint and wore only yellow underpants, which had a strange arc on the back and something like a ... trunk in the front? "I am the genie of the magic lamp!" Giacomo beamed and wiggled his butt. "Rub me and I'll make you happy!"   
She blinked in amazement while Henry made a strange whimper and then cleared his throat in a hurry.   
"I renounce."

~

"Who do you think he has in there?" she murmured to Martin as the very obvious sounds from Geoffrey's bedroom reached their climax.   
"I don't want to know." Martin murmured back, placing the empty tray on a sideboard. "As long as it's nobody Sam would punish for this crime, I don't care."   
"Hmm."   
"I'll just go and knock on Giacomo's door," he said and left.   
A minute later the bedroom door opened and Geoffrey came out, a little staggering, naked and very sweaty.   
"I was right, lunch is here," he said over his shoulder. Ariel bowed halfway.   
"I beg your pardon."   
Geoffrey winced and stared at her in irritation. "Excuse me?"   
"What's wrong?" it was coming from the bedroom. She could see past Geoffrey straight onto the bed and saw Giacomo sitting up.   
"I beg your pardon many times," she repeated and hurried out. In the corridor, she almost collided with Martin.   
"Huh?"   
"Sorry!"   
"Giacomo doesn't answer."   
"He's with Geoffrey."   
"But... what?" Martin raised an eyebrow.   
"The two of them made the noise."   
"Oh... oh!" Martin swallowed and grimaced a little before he turned around on his heel.   
"At least they won't risk an incest baby," she remarked as they made their way back to the kitchen.   
"Is this the first thing you think of?" Martin asked sceptically.   
"I am a woman. And I'm not getting any younger. I would have liked to have children with Matthew," she said forcefully calm. Martin took a sharp breath and turned away. At the next junction, he ditched her.   
"Excuse me." he muttered, barely audible, and in astonishment she looked after him.   
But she was even more amazed when he wiped with his sleeves over his eyes.

~

"No! Sam! Stop it! Sam!"   
"Leave me! That bastard has-"   
"Sam!" Henry tried to keep Sam from going after Giacomo while Geoffrey intervened from the other side. Completely surprised by the outburst in the middle of the corridor, Ariel, Samira and a laundry girl pressed themselves intimidated against the wall. Sam was obviously much stronger than he looked, for he only surrendered to Henry when Solomon appeared at a corner.   
"What the hell is going on?"   
"Giacomo fucked my toys!" Sam hissed and slapped Henry's hand aside.   
"What toys are we talking about?" Geoffrey wanted to know carefully.   
"The baby brothers!"   
"Oh.", both Henry and Geoffrey did, though in a completely different tone.   
Solomon sighed. "What a kindergarten..."   
"Giacomo is old enough to ask!" Sam's face resembled a dark storm cloud. Solomon sighed again, this time more than a little annoyed.   
"We'll discuss this in my office." He flicked at the women. "Laced coffee."   
"Yes, sir."

~

She stood at the window and stared down into the courtyard, where the caretaker Igor and two helpers were setting up a metal scaffolding. When they had finished and two guards brought a large pole to which a man was hanging like prey, the murmuring of the servants stopped. They had shaved his head, and thanks to the distance and all the bruises and marks, it was not possible to tell which of the _"baby brothers"_ it was. He was naked and as he hung there, his back was scraping across the floor.   
"Oh God!" muttered the tall Martin two windows away. "Oh God!"   
"What is it?" someone asked.   
"Sven asked about lard..." The noises that many of the others made sounded like disgust, horror and pity. Adrian, standing behind Ariel, leaned against the wall and suppressed a choking. Matthew next to her had his arms crossed in front of his chest and was now drilling his fingernails into his upper arms.   
The guards had left the yard and now Giacomo stepped beside the rack, thickly wrapped in protective clothing.   
"What... what about the lard?" Ariel asked softly. She didn't see Martin on Matthew's other side when he said:   
"They smeared him with it."   
"Why?"   
"Don't you remember George?" Matthew asked pressed.   
"George?"   
"She can't remember George, the women didn't have to watch," Adrian interjected in suffering.   
"Oh. Right. Well... they smeared him with this and as long as Giacomo was playing with him, he has to watch the rats..." Matthew shivered violently. Ariel became sick.   
"They're coming," someone said silently. From an opening in a corner of the courtyard, suddenly dozens of grey-black little creatures streamed out. Many people turned away.   
Giacomo began to cry, the tied up baby brother screamed.   
"Oh James, you wanted to help," Ariel muttered, squeezing her eyes shut.   
"Dad...?" Matthew whispered in disbelief seconds later and she opened her eyes again. James knelt down beside the scaffolding and touched the screaming young man's neck, who then went motionless.   
James stood up and saluted before disappearing into thin air.


	16. Chapter 16

She stood uneasily in one of the back rows and only half heard Sam's speech. Even if Henry had not been standing right next to him, it would have been more than obvious that Sam hadn't chosen his words himself. It sounded too much like an admonitory and diplomatic mixture of Henry and Solomon and they had chosen Sam as their voice - why was a mystery to her because it sounded somehow unrealistic from his mouth.   
"... and so I want to underline again that betrayal of the household-"   
"Sounds a bit like the speech Solomon gave at that age, don't you think?" Otto murmured softly.   
"Hmm, yes. But Solomon didn't express himself quite so flowery back then," Jörg returned.   
The two old men nodded to each other thoughtfully.   
"Sam takes too much after his grandfather," Jörg then remarked with a sigh and Otto sighed as well.   
"Then we should pray he never gets tired of Henry."

~

"Can we assume that the problem will solve itself at some point?" Martin wanted to know when she entered the garage.   
"No," Matthew said with a sigh. "It is as it is and I'm afraid it'll have to escalate rather severely before...well. Before she's even ready to notice..."   
Ariel hesitantly stepped forward so that the boys saw her. Matthew leaned against a workbench, Adrian sat astride a chair and Martin seemed to walk up and down nervously, enjoying the rare luxury of a cigarette.   
"What are you talking about?" she wanted to know and could not help but notice a strange tone in her voice.   
"Nothing special," Martin said with half a smile and blew smoke diagonally into the air.   
"So this _she_ is nothing special?"   
Martin pressed his lips together and Adrian looked at her as if he was asking her for understanding.   
"We were talking about you."   
The strange feeling in her stomach was confirmed. "Why?"   
Even before Adrian replied, she felt like an outcast. "It would be better if you left. Leave the castle." He spoke softly, but firmly.   
"You know I can't do that!"   
Martin and Matthew avoided her gaze.   
"Even if there wasn't this mark," she touched it and uneasily Martin mirrored the gesture, "Solomon would send someone after me."   
Martin started to say something, but she already continued:   
"How am I supposed to live out there? Even if no one is looking for me and I could hide the mark: I have no money and no ID, I don't even know my last name, if I have one at all."   
In all three faces it twitched.   
"I'm not leaving without you. And if you don't want me anymore, then I'll just stay here until I die!" Tears came to her eyes, the lack of reaction of the others hurt terribly.   
"Ariel, that's not true..." Matthew's face was in agony, his lower lip trembling.   
"No? Then why did you leave me?" She wiped the tears from her cheek with helpless rage, with the sleeve of her favourite red sweater that Matthew had given her.   
Instead of an answer, he walked away wordlessly.   
"You're right," she shouted after him. "You are a coward!"   
"Well, that escalated quickly...", Martin muttered in a doomsday mood and Adrian sighed deeply.   
"We love you, Ariel-"   
"But you're not talking to me!" And she turned away to leave.

~

"You have to tell her, Matthew, or things will _really_ escalate. Only not quite as expected," Adrian said forcefully. She paused at the door to the common room. She didn't want to listen, but the boys were hiding something from her.   
"I can't. I just can't. I can't even do it in my mind." Matthew sounded as if he was going to burst into tears at any moment. Adrian sighed.   
"Coward."   
_"Ma va'tin..."_ Matthew muttered half-heartedly. It was the strong local dialect meaning _"go away"_.   
"Seriously. I wasn't there."   
"Shouldn't this actually make it easier for you? I mean, you're the strongest of us anyway."   
"The strongest? Are you kidding?" Now Adrian snorted sceptically.   
"Aren't you? You let Henry whip you without complaint, even though you could have rigged his jeep a hundred times without being noticed. The three of them left in the same car earlier, that would have solved so many problems at once."   
"If you call that strength, you have been reading a very peculiar dictionary, my friend." Ariel didn't see him, but he probably shook his head. "No, you tell her. You owe it to her."   
"I can't..." Matthew whispered miserably and with self-pity.   
_"Ma va'tin!"_ Ariel muttered bitterly. For her it meant, at that moment _"Fuck off and never come back."_


	17. Chapter 17

She knelt in the darkness of Sam's bedroom, her eyes decently fixed on her hands, while Henry and Sam were exercising on the bed. The sounds they were making suddenly disgusted her. So animalistic and primitive and greedy... She couldn't remember Matthew making such noises. When Sam moaned particularly loud, she got goose bumps. Although she could only remember being hit, she suddenly wondered what Sam had really done back then. Had Matthew left her because Sam... had broken her?

She winced when suddenly James stood beside her.   
"Hey, baby girl."   
She put a finger to her lips and pointed to the bed, James shook his head.   
"They're busy. I mean, theoretically, they could see me if they wanted to - after all, they saw me die - but _I_ don't want them to right now."   
She looked at him questioningly.   
"Listen, baby girl, there's something in the air and I want you to be careful, okay? Don't do anything stupid."   
She shook her head. He looked at her, painfully loving and sad.   
"I guess I'm gonna have to have an urgent word with my son, huh?"   
Because she couldn't think of anything else to say, she nodded. He sighed and turned, but stopped when he was halfway inside the door.   
"You shouldn't be here."

Henry swayed a little as he walked stiff-legged through the bedroom and opened the door to the adjoining room.   
"Frederick!"   
"Yes, sir!"   
Frederick? Oh, please no. Ariel had seen Martin helping the poor boy clean up in the morning. He was only 12 or 13, and someone had declared him fit for duty far too soon.   
"Frederick? Good heavens, what kind of a terrible name is that?" Sam murmured sleepily from the bed. Frederick reluctantly entered the room and Ariel bit her lip. His left eye was half swollen and was already beginning to darken.   
"Don't complain, you wanted someone like Todd. Here you go." Henry ran his fingers through his hair. "Help Sam wash and then change the sheets."   
"Yes, sir," Frederick whispered and hurried to the other side of the bedroom to fetch warm water and towels from the adjoining bathroom.   
"I hope he's better than Todd," muttered Sam and sat up.   
"He is young, he is capable of learning," Henry remarked pragmatically.   
"How young?"   
"Young enough to have a slightly longer discussion with Matthew." Now Henry sounded somewhat annoyed.   
"Ah." A smile played around Sam's lips, which grew bigger when Frederick returned.   
"Sir...?"   
"Why don't you use your very personal washcloth to clean up this mess?" Sam pointed to his crotch and Frederick blinked irritated. Seeking help he glanced at Henry, who made a very unmistakable movement with his tongue.   
Frederick slipped a squeak and Ariel lowered her gaze to the ground.   
Sam had found a new toy.


	18. Chapter 18

She looked up when Henry rushed with long steps into the lounge - which was also a passageway room - and called out for Matthew. He hurried almost immediately from the dining room and swallowed very visibly.  
"Here. What is it?" All other conversations had died.  
"The work on the pool area has finally been completed. I want you to think about a few technicians in charge," Henry explained without bothering to discuss the matter in Matthew's office.  
"Uh... pool techs?" Matthew seemed taken by surprise. "We don't have many people here who have a technical-"  
"I know." Henry interrupted him. "But Sam wants to use the pool for real as soon as possible."  
Darkly Ariel remembered that Sam had loved to swim as a child.  
"I'll see that I-"  
"Good." Henry just nodded and turned away. On his way out he nodded politely to some of the servants, while Matthew stared with a touch of overstraining on his face after him.

"Matthew has become damn ignorant," James suddenly remarked, so that Ariel almost fell from the large windowsill on which she had been sitting and thinking.  
"What do you mean?" she asked very quietly. She didn't want the others to think she was crazy because she was talking to the air.  
"He is too focused on his work to notice me. He doesn't even hear me." James sounded a little disappointed, maybe even hurt.  
"Tell me about it."  
"Baby girl..."  
"Solomon spends too little time at the castle. Henry hasn't got enough experience for the job and Matthew can't do everything on his own. He hasn't the authority or the resources to compensate for Henry's inexperience. And Sam doesn't give a shit about anything other than his fun."  
"You'd think this would be a good thing. If he's not interested in you," James remarked dryly after a moment.  
She snorted. "He doesn't care if we live or die. We're silhouettes, James, you know it, silhouettes that can do something decent or bad and can be replaced randomly."  
"At least he listens to Henry's opinion."  
"Otherwise, after a particularly long business trip by Solomon, there would probably be no one left alive to clean up the mess."  
"You sound melancholic," James then said.  
"As a child, Sam was very different. It was fun to supervise and help him and Henry with their schoolwork..."  
"I know, baby girl..." James put an arm around her and he felt so material, as if he was still alive.

~

A strange crunching and gurgling echoed ghostly in the castle corridors. She had another one of those blackouts, didn't know where she had been going, but she turned around and followed the sound echoing, although it should be impossible. The night lights transformed the castle into a realm of shadows, where she became one of the dancing ghosts; in her red sweater she had to appear as a stain of fresh blood.

And then she reached the pool area, largely carved into the rock and with a wide panoramic window over a rather secluded part of the park. The water shimmered strangely through the window and she entered. Immediately the hot humid air hit her like a wall and she gasped for air. Nevertheless, she passed down the three steps and looked downwards in irritation. The floor was covered with water up to a centimeter high.  
"Oh, damn..." That would mean trouble, a lot of trouble. Carefully, she walked on until she reached the pool. Dull she could hear the sound of pumps and generators, but something else attracted her attention. A human body had gotten caught in the entry ladder with one foot and she had to blink a few times in the foggy twilight before she was sure that most of the right arm was missing. She swallowed and walked on.  
In the sauna area, one of the doors was open and out of what looked like a shower head, there was a constant stream of thick, white, hot fog. Around another corner, the whirlpool was still bubbling so violently that the water was steadily flowing over the catchment grilles, continuously contributing to the flooding. And then Ariel discovered a dark mop of hair in the midst of the bubbling water. As she came closer, she recognised Monique. There was a round cover grille lying on the edge and it looked as if she was stuck somewhere halfway under water, but judging by the steam rising from the water and the red skin colour, she probably hadn't drowned but had been cooked rather slowly.  
Ariel felt nausea rising up and turned around.

She had only taken two steps when Matthew entered the area from the other side. He looked as if someone - presumably James - had thrown him out of bed head over heels. The jeans and the half-buttoned shirt stuck to his body in the humid air, his sneakers made smacking noises. He paused and stared at the hot tub.  
"Oh, fuck..."  
"You chose those two, didn't you?" Ariel wanted to know. He looked at her a little confused, then nodded.  
"Three. I don't even want to know what happened here." His hands trembled visibly as he ran his fingers through his hair and then let them rest at the back of his head. "Oh... fuck..."  
"Yeah, I think that's exactly what's going to happen," Ariel said in low voice. Matthew had chosen the people to look after Sam's beloved pool. The pool was once again a disaster, the people responsible obviously already dead ... so Matthew remained.  
Her own tone was hurting her. She didn't want Matthew to be punished.  
He looked at her, pleading. "Don't watch."  
Now she was the one who was confused. If it wasn't going to be public punishment, she had no reason to do so.

~

Henry pulled Matthew back a little at the shoulders and then let the handcuffs snap shut. The back of the chair was wide enough to cut into his arms and prevent him from getting up.  
Ariel got a stomach ache, Martin next to her swayed with discomfort.  
"So, Matthew ... how did you imagine this to go?" Sam asked curiously, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, got up and then let himself sink astride Matthew's lap.  
"Not at all," said Matthew calmly.  
"Not even a little bit?" Sam kept asking and he shook his head.  
Henry took the water carafe off the table and poured the contents into a plain goblet.  
"What a pity, really," Sam noticed and thoughtfully tilted his head.  
Henry stirred in the goblet and a faint scent of blackberries drifted through the air.  
Martin turned pale while Ariel swallowed.  
Sam accepted the goblet, placed an orienting hand on Matthew's cheek and then forced the aphrodisiac into his mouth. He was smart enough to swallow most of it, but the yellowish liquid still ran down his chin and dripped onto his shirt. Sam licked his skin almost with relish.  
"Sam..." Henry said warningly, while Matthew coughed suppressed.  
"What? I want to have a little fun too. He deserves it." A particularly violent cough on the part of Matthew shook Sam. "Hmm. When was the last time you had sex?" Sam asked, wrapping his arms around Matthew's neck.  
"It's been a while."  
"With who?"  
"Ariel."  
"Ah..." Sam smiled and Henry frowned. "Well, then you actually deserve some attention." Sam started shifting around in Matthew's lap and he made a face. Then Sam slowly kissed his neck and he turned his head to the side, his face becoming a tortured mask while he held Ariel's gaze. Shuddering, he closed his eyes.  
Henry cleared his throat quietly and she looked at him, he nodded in the direction of the door and she and Martin nodded hurriedly, Martin taking the tray with the leftovers from dinner.

In the corridor he paused after a few steps and took a deep breath.  
"You can almost be glad that you're no longer a couple," he murmured.  
"Excuse me?" Perplexed, she stared at him.  
"This experience will thoroughly ruin his sex life for decades to come. And I sound like I know what I'm talking about because I actually do know what I'm talking about." The last part sounded more bitter than she had ever heard from Martin before. The tableware on the tray clanked as he hurried away.  
"Pray that he faints quickly."


	19. Chapter 19

She just stood there, in the hallway of the large community bathing area, trying to breathe. She must have blacked out again and had a pounding headache, the slightly hectic mood of the morning crawled under her skin unpleasantly. Nobody paid any attention to her while the others hurried to the shower or came back from there dripping.

Frederick had spots on his neck which looked as if someone had strangled him.   
Jarla's left half of her face, neck and shoulder were red, as if someone had poured hot water over her.   
Tall-Martin had a thick bandage on his left hand and it seemed as if his little finger was missing.   
Ronny had a split lip.   
Daniel was terribly pale and had dark rings under his eyes; when he left the changing room only in a towel Ariel noticed how terribly thin he had become.   
Rebecca wore her usual woebegone face, accompanied by the clearly visible cuts on her right forearm.   
Nose-Martin lived up to his nickname, for his nose appeared to be broken _again_.   
Adrian's back looked as if he had been kissed by the whip anew only a few days ago.   
Matthew's back now had a second zigzag scar, as well as a lot of bruises.

The old familiar angry helplessness rose up in Ariel, heated her chest and formed her hands into fists. Yet she lowered her gaze and scurried into one of the two shower rooms when- to her good fortune - Solomon and Sam also walked in, wrapped in fluffy red and gold towels. Now and then they did so, showering with their minions in the morning.

Sam entered the same room as Ariel and she retreated into one of the bays and froze. Her blurred reflection frowned at her, her neatly styled blonde braid, the red sweater and grey jeans. Why was she here if she finished already?

Suddenly a scent cloud of garlic and herbs drifted through the bath.   
"Hey, Martin, where should I put all this meat?" Damien shouted loudly over the rushing water.   
"Dude, what are you doing in the bathroom with that? Take it to the kitchen and put it in the fridge!" Tall-Martin shouted back in aghast.   
"Lisa told me to ask you."   
"What's so hard about finding a temporary place in the fridge?"   
Damien admittedly wasn't the brightest light in the night, but Lisa hadn't exactly covered herself with glory either; into the ongoing argument, Sam dryly remarked:   
"Maybe someone should marinate _you_ in garlic." After that, it was quiet. Even if only for a few seconds, as the cheerful screams of children echoed across the hallway and Ariel bent over just in time to see Damien being knocked over by two whirlwinds immersed in the game. The large polystyrene box slipped from his hands and opened on impact with the floor. The smell of garlic became suddenly overwhelming as the poorly closed plastic bags slid over the damp tiles, spitting out their contents.

Damien cursed, Martin cursed, someone scolded the children, complaints about the smell became loud and into the general chaos Sam also loudly expressed his opinion. Ariel, on the other hand, hurried to the accident scene, because there was no way the meat could stay lying there - whether or not it was still to prepare was another question. Franziska also knelt down and hastily threw chicken legs back into a bag.   
"Only idiots work in this household," Sam exclaimed furiously at the very moment when Ariel reached out for a fillet skewer.   
"Sir, please, it was an accident," Matthew said a little too loud, for Sam's words had made it quiet again.   
"Accident? Running children are badly educated and meat in the bathroom is just stupidity. It all fits together rather well, don't you think?" Sam sounded cold and condescending. Matthew looked as if he'd run out of energy for such discussions.   
"Please, sir, I'm sorry, I don't know my way around the kitchen-" Ariel blanked out Damien's stammering as her gaze fell on the fillet skewer again. The meat was stuck on a metal needle as long as her hand and slid down as she grabbed the needle by the curved end.   
"- nothing but a disappointment," Sam hissed and she looked up. He had come closer, his hands on his hips, water drops still running down his slender body. Slowly she straightened up and glanced at Matthew, whose eyes grew big with fright when he saw her.   
And then she turned around and rammed the metal needle briskly into Sam's stomach.

Sam screeched.   
"No!" Matthew yelled, followed by "Stop!" as she pulled out the needle and stabbed a second time, right above the navel. Sam kept screaming and squirming, but she didn't care. Shouting became loud, drowned out by Solomon. She stabbed a third and fourth time.   
"Ariel, stop!" Matthew dragged Sam out of her reach and held him upright on the slippery floor with difficulty.   
Dead silence followed, into which Solomon whispered: "Ariel...?"   
The stunned tone of his voice made Ariel pause and she looked at him. His hair was full of shampoo foam, but something in his eyes made her drop the needle.   
"Oh, Jesus! Baby girl, I told you _not_ to do anything stupid!" James grumbled behind her and grabbed her by the shoulder.   
"I'm not done here yet!" she protested as he began to drag her along with him.   
"We know, baby girl."   
And then again all hell opened up. James grabbed her, pulled her close, she heard Matthew call for his father, heard Sam call for Solomon, heard Solomon shouting orders. She fought back but James pressed her face against his broad chest with gentle force and lifted her up as she stumbled.

And then her angry sobs were all she could hear.   
"I'm not done with Sam!"   
"I know, baby girl, I know..." James said softly, but infinitely sad. "But it won't work in this state."   
She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed, she felt safe in his embrace. James was a ghost and yet his embrace did her so much good.   
Surely she was going nuts.


	20. Chapter 20

She paused when she heard Solomon's muffled but nevertheless angry voice:   
"You are responsible for this mess! So move your ass!"   
"But, Dad..."   
"I don't want no back talk, Samson! No, Henry, you stay here."   
She peered around a corner and flinched back almost immediately. It was late and Solomon had just gotten home - he was still wearing his office suit - but still he didn't look a bit tired, more like he would drag Sam - who did look tired - along by his collar any moment. His eyes flashed with suppressed anger, while Sam seemed defiant and confused.

She followed the two of them, who were keeping strictly silent, on tiptoe through the castle, out through a back entrance into the park and then on to almost the edge of the forest, where the cemetery for the esteemed servants was located. She used to come here often to visit her mother's grave, but when her only relative, Great Uncle Erwin, died and was only given a place in the urn wall below the servants' wing, she had stopped her visits. The pain of grief and loss didn't need a special place.

Solomon finally stopped at a grave and Ariel scurried behind a nearby tree. The flashlight from Solomon's smartphone didn't shine very far and he put it on the gravestone.   
"Um... and what exactly are we doing here now?" Sam asked quietly.   
Solomon growled wordlessly, moved away a bit and came back with a shovel.   
"Dad?"   
"Dig."   
"What? You want to dig up a body?"   
In response, Solomon stabbed the shovel right between the flowers, but then paused and took off his jacket, and since his tie was also disturbing, he literally tore it off his neck. Ariel crouched behind the tree and watched curiously as Solomon dug while Sam slid his fingertips over the tombstone. His lips moved as he deciphered the name.   
"...Netzer," it took him by surprise. "But-"   
"You idiot killed your sister, even though I told you not to _touch_ her at all!" Solomon said, and his anger heated to rage as he worked.   
"My sister? She had a mark!"   
Solomon growled. "The only reason your grandfather didn't acknowledge her. I should have done it as soon as he was dead."   
"She was just a servant's bastard and-"   
"And you're not a bastard, are you? The servant's mark was her only flaw, a visual flaw on top of it, and she was worth a hundred times what you are."   
"You still didn't acknowledge her," Sam remarked after a moment somewhat arrogantly. "Why not?"   
"Because she was happy that way, too," was the short answer.   
"Happy?"   
"Not all members of the Netzer family are as bloodthirsty as you."   
"Tsk," Sam made, even more arrogant than before. The bill for this was a resounding slap in the face. Sam squealed and stumbled back.   
"Show a little more _respect_ to your bloodline, Samson, or you'll write the word on the wall a hundred times in your own blood," Solomon hissed and continued to dig.

At some point the spade hit wood and after another small eternity Ariel heard the wood splinter. Solomon took the phone and shone its light into the hole in front of him.   
"Her family has served the castle since it was built hundreds of years ago, Samson. Her blood is bound to the castle and could have been a valuable addition to the family, but no, you had to kill her." Meanwhile, Ariel seriously wondered who they were talking about.   
"It was an accident," Sam defended himself in a tone that didn't match the statement.   
"An _accident_ that ruined a lot of plans and caused chaos." Solomon almost sounded bitter, but Ariel could also imagine so.   
"What kind of plans?", Sam critically asked, while Solomon put the phone back on the tombstone and climbed out the hole.   
"She is what is known as a bridge generation. Her child would have the magical breaths of servants and our family," Solomon explained, and Sam sighed.   
"You and your magic..." He got slapped in the face for that.   
"You killed not only my first daughter, but my first grandchild as well, Samson, and may God have mercy on you if you cause another _accident_ like that!"   
"I didn't know she was pregnant!" This time Sam actually sounded meek.   
"Are you really not interested in _anything_ except what you enjoy? Good God, what have I raised?" Solomon shook his head in disgust and took the jacket from the next gravestone to look for something in the pockets. "Yes," he continued, "she was pregnant. Why do you think she and Matthew wanted to marry? The guy has far too good a heart and your beloved Henry is going to be quite a disappointment when Matthew lets his contract expire and leaves in the spring."   
Ariel clapped one hand in front of her mouth, the other scratched over the bark of the tree looking for a hold. Solomon's words tumbled wildly through her head.

"Pour the contents of the vial into the grave and call out for her."   
She blinked and saw Solomon handing Sam a finger-long vial. He himself opened a second one, poured the yellow-green liquid in it sweepingly into the grave and called out:   
"Ariel, as your father and head of the family, I summon you!" _Ariel?_ Something was tugging at her. She was the only one in the castle with that name.   
"A-Ariel... as your... brother, I summon you," Sam said hesitantly and the tugging grew stronger, as if someone had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward. She stumbled out from behind the tree and Solomon looked at her, irritatingly sad resignation on his face. Sam seemed uncomfortable.   
"S-sir, I..." She had no idea what to say. Sam touched his belly shuddering and she vaguely remembered stabbing him. Now it was her who shivered.   
"Ariel..." She looked again at Solomon, who pointed to the grave. Slowly she came closer and although it was dark, the pale face seemed to shine through the hole in the wood. Her own face, speckled with earth. Stunned, her mouth opened.   
"I tried to protect you, tried to make your life as a servant bearable. I have...", he sighed, "I have forbidden your siblings to touch you. I am sorry." He sounded honest and sincere. He had kept her near him, had let her play and study with the girls, had granted her privileges and even entrusted Sam to her. The others had always whispered that one day he would call her to his bed, but he had never done so. He had caught her and Matthew making out once and his only comment had been _"he's a good guy"_. He'd never punished her except in words.

There was a torn patch on her temple. The blood had been washed away, but the skin had become discolored and very fine lines indicated where the skull bone had been broken. Matthew had not left her. She had died in his arms. She had died. She was dead. She was just a ghost. So many things started to make sense...

Fuzzy she remembered serving dinner with Martin in Henry's dining room, the smell had given her nausea... She looked at Sam, who had to see her in some way, because he was swallowing hard.   
"I'm sorry."   
"Liar," she said quietly. Solomon sighed.   
"Please, you must go. You must rest." He pointed to the grave. "Please, Ariel." It was weird. She was shocked and angry and stunned, but strangely numb. She was dead, but the longer she stood there, looking at her dead body and trying to understand, the less surprised she was. All the time something had been wrong and here was the answer.

Solomon cleared his throat.   
"I'm not finished here," she said, sounding surprisingly bitter.   
"I know. But you're too powerful, we can't let you... um... exist."   
Sam seemed disturbed, nervous, but she ignored him.   
"Please, Ariel. You should never have died like that and I'm sorry, but I can't undo it."   
"I know." She nodded and glided through earth and wood into her body without any impulse of her own; it felt like putting the last piece of the puzzle in its place.

Solomon began to intonate, Latin probably, and Sam hesitantly joined in. She felt heavy and tired, she was cold, but their voices promised warmth.   
A soft crunching disturbed the steady rise and fall of the voices and then there was a strange clapping and crackling, accompanied by a groaning from Sam and a moaning from Solomon. And then something rumbled on the coffin. Sam made a strange sound, half gasping, half laughing. The leaden heaviness fell off Ariel and unintentionally she sat up, sliding again through wood, earth and Solomon's body. She squealed in horror.   
"Sam, what have you done?"   
"Something I should have done a long time ago," he giggled strained. Where Solomon had stood a moment ago, it shimmered silvery and James appeared while Sam carefully knelt down.   
"James?," she asked in surprise, but he pointed to Solomon.   
"Ariel, take his ring."   
"His-"   
"No!" Sam protested, but with his limited vision he was almost helpless, and Ariel was too used to taking instructions from James. Solomon wore only two rings and instinctively she pulled the heavy gold signet ring from his left index finger.   
"Put it on," James said as Sam continued to protest in the background.   
"Why?"   
"You're the oldest Netzer."   
"She's dead!" Sam almost screamed.   
"I'm dead," Ariel said much more calmly; the truth was strangely soothing.   
"You're material enough to do it. Put on the ring."   
Hesitantly she followed the request and pushed the ring on her right forefinger.

A shock wave, with Ariel as the starting point, rolled over the terrain. Sam howled and fell on his ass.   
"You are now head of the Netzer family, Ariel. All the servants and ghosts of the castle, all the magic of this place, your siblings- they obey your command," James said, sounding strangely proud.   
"At least in theory," Ariel remarked dryly, thinking of the countless times Sam had disobeyed Solomon's orders- after all, it was the only reason she was already dead. James sighed.   
"As a warlord, I am instructed in the secrets and I will share them with you. You cannot harm Sam as your blood relative, but you will need him. Alive."   
"Too bad. He deserves it."   
"Ariel."   
"What?"   
James sighed again, but Ariel looked at the ring. She could feel Sam, the castle and all the servants who bore a mark. Out of nowhere a laugh bubbled from her mouth. Sam, who had just picked himself up, stared at her in a bewildered way, James looked worried.   
"So I can't hurt you, _little brother_..." She grinned broadly. There was a fire in her belly, power, hate, satisfaction. "But I remember stabbing you."   
"The wounds would never have been mortal," James interjected, but she didn't respond to it.   
"Anyway. The others can lay hands on you. Or Henry."   
"Don't... don't touch Henry!" Sam shouted, and rage flared up inside him. "Don't you dare touch Henry!"   
"Me? Why me?" Ariel raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "You know, Adrian might want to repay the favor with the whip. And Matthew has some knife scars he'd like to share."   
"No!" Sam and James called out at the same time.   
"No! You're a ghost, you can't-" Sam's voice broke with a squeak as if he was in a breaking voice.   
"Ariel! Bloody revenge is not the right thing to do! What are you doing?" James sounded worried and maybe even horrified.   
"Shall I write you a list, Sam? A list of the servants who have been scarred by your hand? Shall I tell you where those scars came from? Would you like to share those scars with your loyal servants?" She sounded a little hysterical, she casually noted.   
"No..." Sam whispered. He was scared. It was most satisfying.   
"Ariel!" James exclaimed in dismay.   
"Oh, little brother, we're gonna have so much fun..."   
"No!" Sam backed away, stumbled and barely stayed on his feet.   
"Ariel, what are you saying? You were such a sweet girl, how can you be so... so... so cold-hearted? Where does this thirst for blood come from?" James looked at her stunned.   
"James," she said softly, wondering why he didn't understand. "I am a Netzer. It's in my blood." Solomon and Sam had acknowledged her, had given her a name, for all others had withheld it from her. And she wasn't fucking done with this world.   
"Ariel... no..." But James understood, she could see it. Sam understood too.   
"What... what do you want?" _That_ was the right question.   
"I want you to pay for your mistakes. For your cruelties. I want you to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness from every single servant you've ever harmed. I want you to suffer. I want you to watch Henry suffer." Her voice was cold, but Sam's whimpering did her as good as a warm tea in winter. She walked towards him until she was standing right in front of him. "Maybe you should pray you die by accident."   
"Ariel!"   
"Shut up, James! I can't kill you, Sam, but I can kill Henry."   
Sam breathed in and out frantically, he looked as if he was about to faint.   
"So make sure you obey me."   
"Yes, Ariel," he said softly and a little choked. He got it, oh, he got it! Ariel smiled and nodded.   
"Good."   
James shook his head in silent horror.   
"There are exactly two people here who will suffer from now on, James, so don't look at me like that. I took a serious liking to this little scumbag when he was a little boy and how does he repay me?"   
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, and this time it sounded real.   
"Anyway. James, be so kind as to gather everyone in the castle. We must announce the sad news of Solomon's passing."   
"I... of course." James shimmered and disappeared.   
"You know, Sam," Ariel reached out her hand to stroke Sam's cheek, he flinched at the cool touch, "there were times when I really liked you. When I wished that Solomon was my father." Her memories were strange, but this feeling stood out so suddenly that she had to express it.   
"It's not your blood," Sam said softly. "People are generally cruel."   
"I know. And I'm glad you agree with me." She nodded at him. "But seriously, would you take Henry's punishment if I offered it to you? Would you like to meet his whip?"   
Sam hesitated. They both knew that Henry would suffer willingly in Sam's place.   
"Think about it, little brother. Oh, and also about which one of you two is gonna swallow that nice aphrodisiac. Who suffers more? The one with or without the happy-maker?"   
Sam made a low, tormented sound and Ariel turned away.   
Again a laugh rose in her and then it shook her hard.

An infinity of fun lay before her.


End file.
